“More than that. I’m crazy about it.”
“It’s called ‘Where or When,’ from a Broadway show almost a hundred years old.”
But it could have been written that day and sung for the first time by the person sitting behind them on the bus. It felt that immediate and timeless.
Cooper started talking, mostly about his family. He had two older sisters, Ava and Ginger; one was a geneticist, and the other was an engineer who built suspension bridges. “That takes all the pressure off me. I can do—whatever.” Which turned out to be writing and filming his own science-fiction movie. “Everything will be exactly the way it is now, except for one specific thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“Haven’t gotten quite that far yet.”
Rose laughed. She liked Cooper’s voice, easy and gentle. Back in the diner, she’d liked his eyes, and how he’d held her hand.
Things were starting to add up here.
When they got off the bus, the wind was sharply colder. Rose huddled inside her coat and pressed her face into the collar.
“Cold?” Cooper said. “I can give you my jacket.”
“No, I’m okay.” She remembered something from long ago. “That’s what Kim used to do for me, when we were kids.”
“That sounds like Kim, all right. Giving you the coat off her back.”
“She was always too warm—she thinks her body temperature is naturally about two degrees hotter than everybody else’s. When she got a fever, it went up to something scary crazy, like a hundred and four.”
They made their way to the Congo Gorilla Forest. But instead of letting them go right into the building, a man at the gate said they had to pay extra for it.
“This isn’t included in the price of admission?” Rose said.
“Only if you have the Total Experience Package.”
“That sounds like one of those you-gotta-have-it ads,” Cooper said, and deepened his voice like an announcer: “With the Total Experience Package, you’ll have it all, perfect marriage, perfect job, perfect life!”
Rose ignored Cooper. This thing about the Total Experience Package was bothering her. “Is this something new?” she asked the man.
“Nope, been going on for years and years.” He continued to scan ticket stubs and let people in as he spoke.
“I was here last week. Nobody asked for money for the Congo Gorilla Forest.”
“Then somebody was asleep on the job. You must’ve seen signs for it. They’re everywhere.”
Well, sure they were. Now.
“It’s only three dollars,” Cooper said. “I’ll treat you. I just got a nice tip.”
The entrance consisted of a long, skinny, zigzag hall that felt like a maze with no choice of paths that kept pushing you forward. Rose had no memory of this, either. It was very crowded, shoulder to shoulder. Last week, it hadn’t been nearly so busy, and the other visitors were chatty and friendly, the kids smiling and laughing. Now a lady taking a photo shoved Rose aside and didn’t even apologize, and a kid wailed for his mom, who said, irritably, “Stop it, I’m right here!”
Rose and Cooper finally managed to reach the floor-to-ceiling windows looking onto the gorilla habitat outside. Rose couldn’t believe it. Several gorillas sat calmly gazing at the crowd, but there was one—a huge one—glaring at people as if wanting to tear them apart, if not for this thick glass.
“You were right about the gorillas,” Cooper said. “They’re amazing.”
But what happened to the tender gorilla cradling her baby?
Rose broke away from Cooper, pushing past people, looking for someone who worked here. She spotted a woman all in khaki, holding a clipboard. “What’s wrong with her?” Rose asked.
“What’s wrong with who?”
Wasn’t it obvious? “The gorilla.”
The woman grinned. “That’s one of the famous Pattycake’s many descendants. Her name is Candy.”
“You’re wrong. Candy’s a cocker spaniel.”
“Well, this girl’s nearly twenty and her name has always been Candy.”
The air in the room was starting to feel close and stifling. Rose felt sweat gather on the back of her neck. “I was here last week. There was a mother gorilla and a baby.”
“No babies at the moment. Just Candy and her almost fully grown children.”
“She looked loving and kind.”
The woman glanced down at her clipboard and scribbled something. “Candy’s only got two expressions—mean and meaner.”
“She was keeping the baby safe and sound.”
The woman looked up; clearly she had work to do, but she wasn’t hurrying Rose along. “Maybe you saw a photograph of a gorilla. Ever hear of Koko? She had a kitten she adored.”
“I’m not confusing anything with anything.” Rose pointed at the gorilla. “I know what I saw.”
“No need to raise your voice, sweetheart,” the woman said softly.